


The Riddling Reptiles

by The_Anathemata



Series: A Series of Unusual Events [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: 1930s, Adoption, Crossover, Gen, Parseltongue, Snakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Anathemata/pseuds/The_Anathemata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Montgomery has always wanted a family. Not having the time to find a wife or to raise a child from infancy, Monty decides to adopt a five year-old boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

She must have heard him incorrectly, that had to have been it.

She shifted her gaze from the papers sitting on her desk to the man sitting in the chair in front of her, then back to her papers. He appeared to be a rather reasonable and intelligent man; she could tell from the way he seemed to analyze everything that came into his line of sight. Not to mention his knowledge of adoption laws was lesser only than that of the lawyers of the High Court. She must have misheard him.

No, she had definitely heard him say Tom… Maybe he had confused another boy with him. That must have been it.

Looking back at the cheerful man in front of her, she asked, "Do you mean the older boy you spoke to?" she had seen how he smiled when he had first met Charlie; he probably was referring to him.

"No, I was referring to the younger boy," the man's cheerful expression quickly turned to one of worry, "Did I get his name wrong? I could have sworn that his name was Tom! What kind of father would I be, forgetting my own son's name? After all the trouble I've had with my own name, you'd think I'd learn to be more-"

"No, Dr. Montgomery! You got his name right," she said, realizing that he had meant what he said, "I'm just… shocked, that you've picked Tom over Charlie. I mean, Charlie is such a wonderful boy after all and… Are you completely sure you want to adopt him? I'm sure you've heard what the other children think-."

"Mable, I am fully aware of the boy's past antics, and I'll have you know that I am an excellent judge of character. If he was as bad as I heard, believe me, I would know," Montgomery replied, his cheerful demeanor revived.

Mable sighed in defeat, and went back to looking over the paperwork. At least she had tried to warn the man about what he was getting into.

"If you're sure about this, I'll schedule an adoption hearing for the sixteenth of September," she said as he flipped through the papers. "Normally we would have Tom stay here with us until the hearing, but in this case I suggest he live with you."

"To get to know him better?" he asked.

Glancing back up at him, Mable replied, "Yes, and for him to get to know you better as well. I don't know whether or not Martha told you this, but we don't give our consent for adoptions unless the child agrees to it. There is always a chance he'll reject you as his parent at first, and I can't promise he'll warm up to you."

Montgomery smiled, "I am aware of that."

"Are you sure you'd like to adopt him?" Mable asked, offering him one last chance to turn back.

He only chuckled and nodded, "I'm positive."

After looking over the papers one last time, Mable rose from her seat and walked towards the door, motioning for Montgomery to follow her.

She led him to a door on the second floor of the orphanage, which she knocked on. When no reply came, she knocked again and called out, "Tom? Are you in there?" before opening the door.

All that was inside the room was a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk; its occupant was no where in sight. Mable stepped into the room and looked around, noticing that there were several books left open on the desk. This struck her as odd, since Tom never left his books out.

Just as she was about to speak, there was a faint hissing sound. At first she thought she had just imagined it, but then she heard it again. That time Montgomery seemed to hear it as well, as he began to glance around to room as if he was looking for something.

After several moments of looking around for the source of the hissing, both of them turned their gaze to the wardrobe. Stepping in front of the wardrobe, Mable grabbed its handles. As soon as she did this, a small gasp came from within the wardrobe. Sighing, Mable opened the wardrobe, revealing its contents to her and Montgomery. Upon seeing the contents of the wardrobe, Mable let out a horrified shriek and Montgomery gasped.

Inside the wardrobe were the clothes of the room's occupant, a worn out pair of shoes and a tarnished metal box. These however, were not the cause of the adults worry and fright. What did cause it, were two objects one would not expect to find in a child's wardrobe.

The first of these objects was a small boy by the name of Tom Riddle, who nervously looked up at the adults in front of him. The second of these objects was a full grown adder, which was wrapped around the boy's neck like a scarf.


	2. Chapter 1

Wool's Orphanage had many rules: the 7 PM curfew, the ban on midnight kitchen raids, the buddy system for trips to the seaside or countryside, the rule against threatening Mr. O'Reilly with peanut butter, and many others.

One of the orphanage's most important rules was the rule against pets; no cats, no dogs, no rabbits, no mice, no birds, and definitely no snakes. Unfortunately for the employees, this did not stop children from letting stray dogs "follow them home" or keep them from "finding" rabbits in their luggage after trips to the countryside. Tom, of course, never broke this rule. He was a good boy and knew better than to disobey Mrs. Brigham.

Lectures from Mrs. Brigham were painfully dull for Tom. The matron endlessly rambled on about how he should be better behaved. Though it always amused him that her face could turn such a bright shade of red; the same shade lightly scattered in her iron hair.

He wasn't paying much attention to his current lecture for "bringing such a dangerous animal into the orphanage" and "putting himself and the other children in danger." It wasn't like he had done anything wrong… Francis had snuck into Tom's luggage after their last trip to the countryside.

Tom had never liked Mrs. Brigham; she wasn't called the Iron Matron for her hair color. Sure she protected the children from the strange smelling adults that tried to speak with the older children, but was it really good idea to let the old cat wield a shotgun? He could still picture the time she to shoot drunkards with a broom.

She was far from her glory days, Tom knew that much. Not really the Iron Matron of the 1920's who could disarm a man twice her size. No, that woman was only alive in the memories of those around Wool's. He still couldn't picture the stout old woman fighting men decades younger than her.

Tom looked about the room, letting the old matron ramble on about how "he was raised to be better behaved." Laying on his bed was the object Mrs. Brigham wielded when she had first burst into the room — a croquet mallet which the matron had mistaken for her shotgun. Standing by the threshold of the room were Mable and Montgomery, the currently holding Francis. The snake was idly slithering between the short auburn man's fingers, unaware of how frightened the worker was.

Mable was frantically apologizing to the man, the worker's mousy brown hair coming loose from its already sloppy bun, though Montgomery seemed to be in no need of reassurance. The two were referencing some kind of paper, occasionally gesturing towards Tom.

He couldn't think of any reason why they would be talking about him. Wasn't this man here to adopt someone? It was all that the other children had been talking about for weeks. But why had they—

"Do you understand, Riddle?" asked Mrs. Brigham, snapping Tom out of his thoughts.

Tom looked back to Mrs. Brigham and nodded. The old matron threw him a stern look then turned to Mable. "Help the boy pack, there's more paperwork I need Montgomery to fill out." She grabbed her croquet mallet from Tom's bed and walked toward the door. "If you'd follow me, Mr. Montgomery—"

"Wait!" Tom called out just as the adults stepped into the hall. "What are you going to do with him?" he asked, gesturing to the snake in Montgomery's hands.

"I'll take care of it," Mrs. Brigham replied before closing the door on her way out, "Now as I was saying…"

As the door closed Francis let out a confused hiss, trying to keep Tom in his line of sight. With a click the two adults were gone from the room, taking Francis with them. Tom stood in silence, wondering what would become of the snake.

Taking a deep breath, Mable walked over to Tom's bed. She kneeled down on the floor and reached under the bed. After feeling around for a second she pulled out the boy's suitcase. She placed the suitcase on top of Tom's bed then turned to him, "You heard her. We have to start packing."

He watched as Mable began to fold his clothes and place them into the open suitcase. "Am I going somewhere?" he asked.

At his sudden question Mable's packing halted, "Yes, hence the reason we're packing."

"But where am I going?"

"Tedia, it's in Oxfordshire," she said, dismissing the boy and returning to her packing, "Alright Tom, enough messing around, now help me pack—"

"I'm serious," he said.

Mable clenched her firsts, muttered something under her breath, and kneeled so she was at eye level with Tom. "You know why Montgomery is here, right?" she asked, her voice somewhat strained. From annoyance? Like she had any reason to be upset with him!

"Yes," Tom answered dully, "He said that he was looking for a bright, outstanding, young trooper."

"He found one."

"I know, it's Charlie," he said, becoming more irritated from Mable's lack of a proper answer.

"Montgomery doesn't want to adopt Charlie," she placed a hand on Tom's shoulder. She hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath to compose herself before continuing; "He wants to adopt you."  
Tom pulled his shoulder away from Mable's hand and simply stared at the woman. "No."

"Don't you dare start this again, Tom, I am not putting up with this anymore!"

"No," he said, louder and more forceful than before.

"Do you really think you're going to end up like— Damn it, Tom— You— I—" Mable let out frustrated huff and returned to packing his suitcase. "I don't have time for this," he heard her mutter.

Tom watched Mable pack his suitcase; she had clearly given up on trying to get his assistance. The next several minutes passed by in silence, only broken by Mable's occasional muttered comment. Tom didn't pay any mind to what she was going on about, though it was probably about his behavior.

Why did Mrs. Brigham have to leave him alone with Mable? Out of all the workers he could have been stuck with, he got stuck with the matron's granddaughter.

Just because she was Mrs. Brigham's granddaughter she acted as if she owned the place, always telling Tom to socialize with the other orphans. She even had the nerve to yell at him for telling potential adopters what he thought of them, which was exactly what she told him to do. Not his fault that were all boring.

Though he did think it was funny when she turned bright red. It was a like a tomato. A stupid, hormonal tomato… Whatever hormonal meant, though Mable got really upset whenever someone even mentioned the word and started screaming about how she was regular. Whatever it meant, it made women go nuts when they were called it.

When she finished packing his suitcase for him she walked over towards the room's lone window. Looking out the window at the rest London, Mable took several deep breaths while rubbing the sides of her head. Tom could barely hear her, but she was mumbling to herself.

"I have to admit, I don't see how he even considered adopting you," she muttered, "You were so standoffish to him, just like you were to every other potential adopter. You didn't even give him a reason to like you. I was sure he'd just pass you over."

She glanced at Tom then back out at London, "I know you don't want to, but will you at least try?" Hearing the boy huff she quickly turned to him and asked more forcefully, "Will you?"

Tom looked down at his hands, avoiding eye contact with Mable. If what she was saying was true, he knew the man would grow tired of him after a while. In that case why even bother? But if he said no he'd never hear the end of it.

Still avoiding looking at Mable he muttered, "Fine, I will."

Mable's footsteps echoed throughout the room followed by the creak of his door opening. "Remember to give the books you borrowed back by the end of the day," he heard her say before the door closed.

* * *

Tom played with the handle of his suitcase as he waited by the gate of the orphanage for Montgomery to finish his conversation with Mrs. Brigham and Mable.

He had noticed the increased number of dirty looks the other children threw him as he  
made his way to Mrs. Brigham's office that morning. Not that he wasn't used to the other children throwing dirty looks at him, there were just more that morning than usual. That was probably because he, despite his best efforts, had managed to catch Montgomery's interest; not that it mattered.

How long would it be before he was sent back to the orphanage? Two weeks? One week? He knew he wouldn't last the entire month until the sixteenth of September. Would he get his room again when he got sent back? He hoped he would. It was one of the rooms that overlooked the front of the orphanage and not one of the alleyways. It wasn't that he particularly enjoyed his view of the busy London streets. He never cared for the rows of brick buildings, honking cars, and busy Londoners that littered the streets.

Having a room that overlooked the front of the orphanage meant he was one of the first children to see when a potential adopter arrived. He enjoyed having this advantage; it gave him several more minutes to make himself as undesirable as possible.

A light tap on his shoulder pulled Tom from his thoughts. Standing in front of him was a rather tired looking man holding a thermos. The man appeared to be several years younger than Montgomery, probably in his mid-twenties. His coat was thrown over his shoulder and his scraggly brown hair was topped by a hat lopsided.

"Neil Rothley, Montgomery's assistant and your chauffeur for the day," the man introduced himself, holding out his hand for Tom to shake.

Odd, why would Montgomery's assistant come with him? Hesitating for a moment, Tom shook the man's hand and replied, "Tom Riddle."

Rothley let go of the boy's hand and turned to look at the three conversing adults. "Looks like we're not going to be going anywhere for awhile," he said as he took a sip from his thermos, "Montgomery can go on for hours when he wants to."

"I've noticed," Tom muttered. The one time he failed to evade Montgomery he found himself in a thirty minute interrogation regarding his reading habits.

The two remained silent for quite some time, Rothley looking rather intently at Tom, as if he were studying him. After several moments he asked, "How old are you, Tom?"

Somewhat confused by the sudden question, Tom replied, "Five and a half. Why?"

"Nothing. Just wondering," the man murmured. Leaning back and pointing up at the orphanage, Rothley said, "Looks like you have some admirers."

Following the man's gaze, Tom saw that a few windows were full of children staring down at him. In one window he saw Dennis and Amy quickly scramble to drop their blinds, eventually causing the blinds to fall on top of them in their panic. He saw several of the older girls crowded around another window. Billy and Eric had their faces pressed against their window, making bizarre faces at him. In another window he saw Randy and Chris glaring at him, obviously angered that he had been picked over Charlie.

"I'd say they're stalkers," Tom muttered, earning a chuckle from Rothley.

* * *

Tom had never actually been in a motorcar before; he never had a reason to. The children of Wool's Orphanage took the train to their summer outings and he had never been seriously ill or injured enough to warrant a visit to a hospital. Everywhere else he would have needed to go was within walking distance of Wool's. Now that he was actually inside one he realized there was nothing special about it; just a moving hunk of metal with leather seats.

"You okay back there, kid?" he heard Rothley ask. Tom looked up at the man driving and muttered a simple yes. "Good, wouldn't want you getting carsick," the man said. "There's a pillow back there if you get tired."

"I'm fine," Tom replied, nudging said pillow with his foot.

"Really?" Montgomery asked as he looked back at him, "I assume you're just resting your eyes then."

Tom quickly opened his eyes, "I'm not tired!" He had to be more careful, he hadn't even noticed his eyes were closed.

The two adults merely chuckled before talking amongst themselves, leaving Tom to amuse himself.

He looked out the window at the passing pasture littered with dozens of cows. They were idly eating grass, completely oblivious to their surroundings. Now that Tom thought about them, he realized how cute cows were, and how boring they were. So very boring.

Tom hated cows.

He couldn't understand why people liked cows so much; they're just fat and boring. The only good thing about them is that they taste good and they have milk. Sure they look nice, but snakes look nice too. And at least snakes have conversational skills. These fat white and black blobs just stand around all day and eat, cluttering grassy landscapes.

Glaring at the fat steers, Tom looked out the other motorcar window where another army of cows stood.

Did Montgomery live in the middle of nowhere? They hadn't seen another motorcar since the last town they passed through, and that was a while ago. The only thing for the miles was cows, cows, and more cows.

Actually, he realized, he didn't know anything about Tedia besides its general location…

The boy looked over to Montgomery, who was still having a conversation with Rothley. Noticing Tom looking at him, he gave the boy a rather large smile. Seeing this Tom quickly went back to looking out the motorcar window.

As Tom stared out at the passing fields and their inhabitants, his eyes began to feel strangely heavy.

No! He wasn't going to fall asleep. He was just going to rest his eyes for a moment. Letting out a small yawn he let his eyes close and rested his head on the motorcar's door.

* * *

He hoped the ride would be over soon, though the seats were suddenly much softer. The blanket was warm too, it was like he was lying on a couch. Wait…

Lazily opening his eyes, the first thing Tom saw was a dark red carpet. Looking up he saw the strangest assortment of furniture he had ever seen. There were chairs, sofas, and bookshelves of all different shapes and sizes. Scattered across the walls were strange looking paintings and masks.

The boy's eyes widened and he threw the blanket off him; he'd fallen asleep during the ride!

As he looked about the room he felt something cold nudge his feet, though he ignored it as he continued his examination of the room. Suddenly it bumped his stomach, causing him to yelp. He quickly grabbed a pillow and prepared to defend himself from his attacker, only to nearly drop it in surprise.

Staring back at him with large, unblinking eyes was a very large tortoise. It tilted its head before proceeding to nudge the boy's feet. For a moment, all Tom could do was stare at the leathery beast in shock.

The old cat had probably planned this all from the beginning! Send him away under the guise of being adopted only to be eaten by an oversized tortoise! This was how he would die then, devoured by a man-eating tortoise.

No, he can't give up! Mrs. Brigham wouldn't get rid of him that easily!

Tom slammed the pillow into the tortoise's head, only for it to continue its attack on the boy's feet. Panicked, he began to repeatedly bash the tortoise with the pillow, but it had no affect on the leathery beast. Tom attempted to escape by scurrying to the opposite side of the couch, but his assailant could still reach him. After slamming his ineffective weapon into the beast's head one final time, he leapt from the couch and ran behind one of the other couches that stood in the room.

Tom crouched in his hiding place, still clutching the pillow for dear life. He raised the pillow above his head, preparing to attack the demon spawn as soon as it turned the corner. He sat there for several moments waiting for the tortoise to strike, but it never did. Did he kill it?

He cautiously peeked from behind his hiding place to find that his attacker was no where to be seen. Tom's body sagged with relief. Then he felt the nudge. Just as he thought he had vanquished the beast, he felt something quickly tug off his shoes. It was going to start with his toes!

Tom let out a shriek and ran as fast as he could away from the tortoise. As he ran past the couch he had woken up on, he tripped on his discarded blanket. He looked up expecting to see the face of the his doom preparing to strike. What he saw instead was much, much worse.

The tortoise had maneuvered through the furniture towards a pair of closed doors on the opposite side of the room. Montgomery was leaning on the doors watching him with a large grin on his face, struggling to hold back laughter.

Tom felt his face heat up and scrambled to get onto his knees. Clutching the pillow to his chest, he muttered, "It was going to eat my toes…"

"Frederick has been in my family for over sixty years," Montgomery said in between chuckles as he reached down to pet the tortoise, "And I, nor my father or grandfather, have never seen him eat a slice of ham, let alone a child."

Tom stayed silent, avoiding eye contact with the man.

"I hope you don't mind, I already chose a bedroom for you. Third floor, your suitcase is outside the door," Montgomery said, gesturing to the stairs. "You can go up there now if you'd like, lunch will be ready in an hour," he called back to Tom as he made his way to what Tom assumed was the dining room. The tortoise slowly followed Montgomery, throwing the boy one last glance before entering the dining room.

As soon as the tortoise was out of his sight, Tom looked at the large doors Montgomery had just come from. The doors were a reddish brown and nearly reached the top of the high ceiling. He didn't know why, but something about the room called to him. The boy's curiosity getting the better of him, Tom stood and made his way for the doors.

As Tom stood in front of the massive doors he wondered if he would even be able to open them. The boy reached up and grabbed hold of the door knob before slowly pushing the door open. Before Tom could even open the door wide enough to peek through, he heard a loud, enraged voice coming from within the room.

Tom quickly slammed the door shut and bolted up the stairs. Going to his room suddenly sounded like a much better idea.


	3. UPDATE 8/3/2014

STORY UPDATE 8/3/2014  
To start off this update, I’d like to thank the few of you who commented on/left a kudos/bookmarked this story. I appreciate your support, and your feedback made me feel more confident in my writing skills.  
Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to sit down and work on The Riddling Reptiles in over a year. Between schoolwork and working on other projects, I just haven’t had the time to work on this. I’ve also been struggling with writer’s block and haven’t been able to find ways of continuing the story. I realized a while ago that I made some oversights with the storytelling, which is why I haven’t been able to continue writing.  
I plan on rewriting this story in the near future, which will prove difficult considering I will be starting university soon (Huskies!). I’m also working on several other fanficitons and currently planning a novel, so it may take me a while to get back to this.  
I promise that I’ll try my best to update within the next month, and if I don’t, may one of Montgomery’s specimens nibble my toes off.


End file.
